


On The Subject Of Overtime

by LittleLinor



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: D/s, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: An upset Daichi finds comfort in Yamato's arms... almost.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly just kink fluff.
> 
> Set post Record Breaker (both the game and the path), but aside from one hint/mention in passing, there aren't any real spoilers.  
> The entire premise behind this verse is that Daichi eventually decides to accept the invitation Yamato extended to everyone to work for JPs because he likes helping out and Romance Happens.

You're winding down from a long day of work by reading your last reports on the sofa in your office when the door opens and closes again.  
You don't need to look away from your papers. There is only one person in all of JP's who would come into your office without knocking, even if he only does it when you're alone. Even Makoto knocks, out of habit.  
You expected him to call out to you, or to come greet you with a kiss like he does sometimes, but instead you hear slight shuffling before he takes the few steps to the front of the sofa and kneels, his weight coming to rest against your leg.  
You blink and look away from your reports. He's knelt not quite in front of you, but just to the side, nestled between the side of your leg and the sofa, and as you watch him, he rests his head on your lap with a sigh.  
He looks tired. You frown.  
His eyes are closed. As you let the hand with your reports fall on the other side of your lap, they open again, and meet yours, before falling away, almost looking guilty.  
“… sorry,” he mumbles.  
“It's quite all right.”  
“I'm not slacking off,” he starts, as if attempting to justify himself for a slight you can't see, “I finished my shift half an hour ago—”  
“I know your schedule,” you cut him off. He shuts up and deflates.  
It's unlike him. He has down moments like any human being, but you're not used to this almost depressed guilt from him.   
It's almost like watching the person he used to be, worlds ago when you first met him, when you'd first discounted him as little more than a fearful mouse.  
He's grown so much since then. Watching him like this is, if you're completely honest, almost worrying.  
You set the papers down next to you and reach for his head, rubbing fingers into his scalp. He blinks, almost starts in surprise, but within seconds relaxes at the familiar contact.  
You smile.  
“Are you tired?”  
“… mmm yeah. It's been a long day.”  
“You're used to those,” you point out, prompting him to elaborate.  
He winces.  
“Well _yeah_ but...” He trails off and sighs. “There was a bit of trouble. You know that investigation around those murders where we're cooperating with the police?”  
“Yes. Is it not proceeding smoothly?”  
“The _investigation_ 's fine, the cooperation...” He sighs. “One of the officers knew a victim, he didn't like how we're handling things… it got pretty nasty. I got everyone to calm down, but...”  
He trails off again. You reach under his bangs with your thumb to brush them away from his face.  
And to your relief, he does smile slightly at the feeling, nuzzling your thigh a little.  
“… I hate conflict,” he concludes with a sigh.  
“And you are talented at dispelling it,” you tell him, rubbing at his scalp again. “Good work.”  
He blushes and lets his eyes fall away.  
“'s my job,” he mumbles.  
“I suppose that's true,” you chuckle. “… Daichi, if you were tired, why didn't you go straight home?”  
“I feel safer here.”  
Something in your chest tenses, almost tightens.  
“… it's dumb,” he adds quietly, looking away.  
“No. I'm...” you search for the right word for a second, “… flattered.”  
You never thought anyone would consider you safe. Trustworthy, maybe. Safe in that they wouldn't be scared of you being unfair, yes. But not safe _r_ , not a haven. No one has ever looked to you for shelter.  
Back in your first life, you might have found it disgraceful. Now…  
Now, you find you like the idea. More than a little, even.  
“… in fact,” you continue, taking the tone you'd normally reserve for briefings and explanations, “I have to confess I rather like it. I'm usually the one to tell you to kneel.” You smile, its pull sharper than the earlier one. “And usually for other purposes.”  
He chuckles.  
“Hey, I'll totally do _that_ kind of kneeling for you whenever you want, you know?”  
“Good,” you say, petting him again, and feel a twist of power and satisfaction when he blushes.  
“But...”  
“But?”  
“… well, even if I'd wanted to—which I didn't—I mean, I definitely wouldn't mind, I'm just saying that's not what I was going for—”  
“Daichi.”  
He cuts off.  
“… right. Sorry.” A breath. “It's just… well, you were busy. I didn't want to bother you. Already felt like I _was_ , honestly.”  
You consider your next words carefully. In truth, his presence isn't distracting; if he hadn't looked so upset, you'd probably have freed one hand to pet him and gone right back to your work. But there's something else there that you think is worth addressing.  
“Officially, my work hours also ended half an hour ago,” you tell him, casual. “Earlier, if you count the fact that I came in early. I think both you and Makoto insisted I actually consider this my free time.”  
He smiles faintly.  
“Well, yeah.”  
“That aside.” You fight the urge to look away, and keep your eyes on him, as commanding as you can be. “Even if it was during hours, if you have genuine need of it… not for leisure, of course, but if you are distressed or in need of support… I will make time for you.”  
He stares at you in shock, his head rising from your lap.  
“… is it that surprising?”  
“ _Yes?_ ”  
You laugh.  
“I suppose it is at odds with my old principles.”  
“No shit.”  
“Of course, this only applies if I'm not immediately engaged in a time-sensitive task, or in company, unless it's an emergency.”  
“No, no, I get that, I just.” He takes a deep breath, then brings his head back down, face down at first, and you think he might actually have left a kiss there before leaning back on his cheek. “Thank you, Yamato.”  
“You're welcome.”  
He's still blushing, and before long you feel him tense under your fingers, skittish, his shoulders shifting in ways that probably mean his hands are fidgeting.  
“… do you want tea?” he suddenly asks, making to straighten. “I'll go make you tea.”  
You tighten your hold, digging fingers into his scalp hard enough to probably be painful and forcing his head back down the couple of centimetres it had risen. He winces and obediently stops moving.  
“Shijima.”  
“Sir.”  
You hold back a smile.  
“Did I give you permission to move?”  
A shiver courses under your fingers.  
“No, Sir,” he breathes.  
“That's better.” You release your hold, keeping your hand in place without pressing. “Now, I'm going to finish these reports, and then we can go home. Understood?”  
A second of silence, and then he unwinds a little, leaning against you more, just slightly.  
“Yes Sir.”  
It's quiet, and warm, and maybe even a little grateful. You nod and pick your papers back up with your other hand.

He stays where he is, at first. And then, as seconds, minutes tick by, he starts relaxing, his body all but curling up against your legs, his eyes falling shut. You smile and start petting him again.  
Maybe you'll spend more time on those reports than you'd originally planned.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the triangulum arc for giving me deredere Yamato.


End file.
